


Goin' Bowlin': Wesen Style

by Fantasyenabler



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:50:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fantasyenabler/pseuds/Fantasyenabler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bud asks Nick for help.  Nick is too hung over to understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Goin' Bowlin': Wesen Style

Nick grimaces as he stumbles through his living room, the pounding in his head nearly drowning out the noise of someone pounding on his front door.  His entire body feels like a cautionary tale entitled, "No, seriously, Rosalee's egg nog will kick your ass," along with the ensuing epilogue, "Let's just give it up and stay in bed today." Unfortunately, Nick can't afford to ignore people who need to see him badly enough to nearly knock a hole in his door. It may be December, but Nick knows how little that means. And how most criminals never got that memo about taking it easy for the holidays.

(And yes, there is a memo. Nick, Wu, and Hank composed that memo at the precinct Christmas party a few years back. They would have distributed it too, if Captain Renard hadn't stopped them. Something about how the Portland PD could not be associated with a document that began, "Dear Criminal Scumbags...")

"I liked that memo," Nick mumbles to his front door, rubbing his head as he tries to think of an out that would enable him to ignore whoever is on the other side.

 _There is no out_ , whispers a part of him that sounds an awful lot like his Aunt Marie.

There should be, he thinks, sighing, just before he gives in and answers his door.

The door swings wide, and for a moment, Nick realizes that answering the door clad only in a pair of sweatpants might not have been the brightest idea...

Thankfully, that moment passes when he finally sees who it is. "Bud!" he says, as the Eisbeber turns back around, one foot still pointed in the direction of Nick's front walk. "Hey, I thought the Beaver Lodge was having some big meeting today? Or was that just an excuse so you could all leave early last night?"

Bud frowns, but it's more confused than nervous, and Nick counts that as forward progress in his campaign to make Bud and the rest of his fellow "Beaver-Wesen" more comfortable around their local Grimm.   "We are having a meeting," Bud says, "but we're having a hard time deciding a vote, so I offered to come over here and see if you could help us out."

Now it's Nick's turn to frown, as all sorts of unlikely scenarios start running through his head. "What do you mean by 'help you out'? No one's getting violent over there, are they?"

Bud waves his hands, his expression much more nervous than before. "No, it's nothing like that," he says.  "We just need to know...now that you're on your own for the holidays..." 

He stops for a quick breath, and Nick imagines they can both hear the words, _Now that Juliette's left you_ , fill the pause. 

"Well," Bud adds, "we were wondering if you had any plans that might keep you from being able to leave town with us on New Year's Day." The words speed up as he speaks, and he has to take another breath before he can continue. "And stay gone until at least the third of January."

Nick can feel his frown growing deeper. "Us? You mean your entire lodge?" Bud nods, and Nick finds himself shaking his head. "Why? And where are _all_ of you going?"

"New Orleans," Bud answers. "We need to go to New Orleans."

"New Orleans?" Nick grimaces, as he suddenly has visions of Monroe telling him that Anne Rice is just a horror writer, and there's no such thing as "Vampire Wesen."  "What's in New Orleans? Or maybe I should ask, _who's_ in New Orleans?"

Now it's Bud's turn to grimace. "Skalenzahne.  Lots and lots of Skalenzahne." He shudders as he takes another quick breath. "And by lots...I mean, _thousands_."

"Thousands?!" Nick thinks back to the one Skalenzahne he's encountered, how fiercely the reptilian Wesen had fought, and then _he's_ the one who's shuddering.  "There are thousands of Skalenzahne living in New Orleans?!"

Bud shakes his head. "No, not living there. But they're going to be traveling there. They won't be able to help themselves. They're going to be drawn there just as much as we are."

"They...wait a minute." Abruptly, Nick realizes his hangover is gone, a sign that his body is already gearing up for what his brain is just starting to recognize as a dire situation. "You're going to New Orleans because some force is calling you there? And it's going to be calling the Skalenzahne too?"

Bud's suddenly looking more confused than nervous.  "Well, yes.  Of course, it is."

That's it, Nick thinks.  Time to stop talking and start planning. "Okay, Bud," he says, as he turns and begins walking back into the living room.  "Here is what we're going to do. First, I'm going to call Monroe and Rosalee, because this sounds like something they're going to want to get involved in..."

"Really?" Bud follows him in, and Nick tells himself not to snap when the Eisbeiber leaves the front door open. "That's great! I didn't realize they were fans too."  He looks around the room, probably taking in the lack of Christmas decorations. "I mean, I knew that Monroe had watched some of the games, but I didn't think he considered himself a hardcore fan."

Nick frowns even as he grabs his gun, suddenly feeling like he's missing something.  "Games?" he asks. "I'm not sure what you're--" And then it hits him. "You're not talking about the Lowen Games, are you? Because I can tell you that Monroe is definitely not a fan of those."

"What? No!" Bud's face is red when Nick looks back at him, and Nick can't help thinking that he's as outraged as Nick has ever seen him.  "I would never--I don't--" He stares at Nick, and Nick's not sure if it's part of being a Grimm, or just a good cop, but he can tell the moment Bud comes to a realization. "Nick," he says, "I'm not talking about any Wesen sports. I'm talking about a human one."

"Okay." Nick puts his gun back on the table, having decided long ago that "armed and confused" is not a good look on anyone.  "I think we've bungled some conversational steps here." He turns and makes sure that Bud is looking right at him. "Now, here's what I understand so far. You and the others are going to New Orleans because something is drawing you, something that's also drawing Skalenzahne, and that this something has to do with some kind of human sporting event?"

Bud's both shaking and nodding his head, like he can't decide. "Yes," he says, "And no." He grimaces before he tries to explain. "Nick, the something doesn't just have to do with the sporting event; it _is_ the sporting event."

Nick nods, starting to feel like he can see where this is all going. "And this sporting event--it's cursed, right?"

The change in Bud's expression gives him an answer even before his words do. "What? No! Or at least I hope not."  Bud rubs his head and sighs. "We're not drawn by any sort of spell, Nick. We're drawn by the teams."  He drops his hand and looks away. "Or maybe it's better to say, their mascots."        

"Mascots?"  Nick follows Bud's line of sight, follows it until he sees the open sports page Nick left sitting on the coffee table...

And that's when it suddenly clicks.

"Oh my god," he says. "You're a beaver."  Bud stares at him like he's crazy until Nick adds, "Oregon State's mascot is the beaver.  And they're going to a bowl game."

Bud smiles, an oddly relieved sort of smile. "Yes, Nick.  Oregon State is going to the Sugar Bowl. And our Lodge is going to be there with them."

Nick nods, then frowns again. "Okay, but what about the Skalenzahne?"

Bud's smile slips a bit, but then he grabs the sports page and brightens. "Look, Nick. Look at who they're playing. Then tell me if you still don't understand."

And understand Nick does, the moment he sees the headline. "Oh my god," he says. "They're playing the Florida Gators."

Bud's nodding. "And the Superdome holds over seventy thousand people. Granted, most of them will be human..."

Bud doesn't even have to finish that thought for Nick to know what his New Year's plans are going to be.  "Beavers vs. Gators, huh?"

Bud nods, even as he starts pulling out his cell phone. "Should I tell the Lodge that you're going then?" he asks.

"Yeah," Nick says. "You can tell them that you've found a referee."

 

       

       

     

 

**Author's Note:**

> Congratulations, Oregon State on becoming bowl eligible! I am not a Beavers fan, except for when ya'll play USC, but when I heard you all had six wins..well, this fic just begged to be written. :)


End file.
